


Blindfolded

by Wolf_007



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Blindfolds, M/M, Potential non-con to con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_007/pseuds/Wolf_007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan and Brandt work on a hostage training exercise. It starts relatively innocent, Ethan being the blindfolded "hostage", but then Brandt decides to take full advantage of the situation and Ethan's initial protests are of no use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindfolded

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Unbeta’d. And consent stuff, see note below.
> 
> Note about consent stuff: I’m really not sure where this falls consent-wise. Personally, I would categorize it as potential non-con into con, but I can see how the argument could be made for any other forms of consent. This is your warning that consent in the beginning might seem a little dicey so now you can’t say I didn’t warn you.
> 
>  
> 
> Cross-posted to Ghotocol Kink and ff.net.

Part of an IMF agent’s job was being constantly trained. They might know a lot to begin with, but there was always something that could be improved upon. For one, Jane could use more time in activities that inspired self-discipline. It’s determined that Ethan needs to spend more time as the hostage.

It’s why Ethan finds himself blindfolded with his arms and legs bound to a chair. He tests the wrist restraints by tugging with his hands. He’s not surprised to find they’re solid, impossible to break without causing some serious damage to his wrists. He can deal with the restraints because he’s been tied up before, but he’s not used to being blindfolded like this. 

He takes a moment to breathe and focus on his other senses. The first thing he notices is that he’s not the only one in the room. There’s a presence behind him. He can’t hear anything from that direction, but he knows someone is there. He twists in that direction.

Ethan’s rewarded with the sound of a small pleased noise from the presence. Clearly, whoever was standing there wasn’t expecting him to notice that they were there before they presented themselves. Beyond the noise though, this person doesn’t acknowledge him at all. It sends chills down his spine.

The two stay like that for a period of time. Without his eyes, Ethan feels time slipping away from him. He’s not sure how much time is passing. It could be seconds or minutes or even hours, and he can’t figure it out. He still knows that someone else, the same someone else as before, is there, but they haven’t moved.

Finally, finally, the person moves. There’s the soft rustle of clothes as well as almost silent, steady breathing. The presence gets closer. Ethan’s not sure what’s coming so he tenses preparing for a hit. Instead, a warm hand settles on the back of his neck and a thumb briefly strokes the joint between his neck and his shoulder. Then the hand is gone. Ethan starts to count seconds in his head, but loses track after re reaches three minutes and some odd seconds.

The hand comes back to bury itself in his hair before yanking. Ethan doesn’t give the person behind the pleasure of making any noise even as his head jerks back. The hand stays in his hair holding his head in place even as the person shifts their body weight. Ethan smells sweat, shaving cream and shower gel. The combination is familiar though Ethan can’t quite remember where he’s encountered it before. From the way he’s being held, Ethan knows he’s not going to get beaten for the information. He stills prefers being beaten to other methods of getting information though.

The hand continues to pull his hair back as the other hand drops to his shoulder before trailing down his ribs to rest on his thigh. Even with the blindfold, Ethan knows his captor is leaning over him. He can feel the other’s, a man’s judging by his hands, breath on his neck. He surges up against the restraints, but they hold tight. His captor lets out a light chuckle. Ethan goes completely still. He knows that laugh, but the name of who it belongs to still escapes him.

The hand in his hair gives a little experimental tug. Ethan tries and can’t help the faint moan that slips past his lips. His brain is against the idea, but his body reacts on a purely instinctual level. Ethan likes hair-pulling in sex. He shakes his head, trying to reason that it isn’t a very good idea. The hand tugs again. All of Ethan’s thoughts start to edge out of his brain.

“Stop that,” he commands. He’s pleased that his voice comes out without the tremor he thought it might have.

The man behind him laughs. Ethan struggles with the restraints again. He feels them start to cut into his skin, but he doesn’t stop pulling against them. The hand on his thigh shifts to reach each wrist in turn as his captor tries to stop his struggling with only one hand.

“Stop.” Ethan says again. This time his voice trembles faintly. An ordinary person might not have heard it, but the man behind him is obviously a trained professional, obviously would have heard it.

The owner of the hands tuts disapprovingly. The hand in Ethan’s hair hasn’t moved recently, but the other hand has stopped fiddling with the restraints to drift towards Ethan’s cock. Basic IMF field training teaches agents how to deal with all forms of torture. While Ethan was first in his class in withstanding torture, this kind of torture always started to get to him before it got very far.

“No.” Ethan protests more loudly than before. The hand stops on the inseam of his jeans less than an inch from his half-hard cock. When he doesn’t say anything more, the hand brushes lightly against his jeans. He swallows the whimper. “Stop. I know what you want, but you’re not going to get it from me like this so just stop.”

“How do you know what I want from you? I haven’t asked anything.” A low voice rumbles.

It all snaps into place. Ethan’s smelled the combination of scents before in various cramped spaces of safe houses the team occupies during a mission. He’s heard the laugh when he suggests a plan that’s particularly risky to the team. He breathes a sigh of relief because it’s not an unfamiliar agent putting him through the exercise, it’s someone he knows. Ethan thinks he should be less aroused by this idea, but instead he’s more by the idea of being bound and blindfolded before the other.

“How do you know what I want?” The voice rumbles again. It’s accompanied by a faint tug of the hair.

“Brandt.” Ethan exhales quietly.

“No. He’s not what I want.” The voice sounds faintly amused.

“Because you spend enough time with your own right hand.” Ethan quips.

There’s a sharper tug of hair obviously meant to be punishment, though Brandt has probably figured out by now that it turns Ethan on even more. Ethan can’t stop the whimper/groan that escapes him. He’s almost forgotten about the other hand and its location until it squeezes. He shifts as much as he can in the chair trying to get more comfortable.

“Brandt,” he repeats.

“Yes.”

No one says anything for long moments. Ethan leans his head back into Brandt’s hand. He works on steadying his breathing which is getting harder with Brandt’s wandering hand. The hand that doesn’t settle in one place long enough, that doesn’t provide the right amount of friction, that doesn’t give the right amount of pressure.

Ethan’s mind strays from trying to keep silent the longer Brandt has him in his hand. He’s only human after all, and the other agent clearly knows what he’s doing. Everything feels so good, and it’s been a long time since he’s done anything like this with someone he knows more about than their name. Brandt leans against his arm. Ethan is presented with the evidence that Brandt is getting as much out of this as he is.

“What did you need to know from me?” Ethan asks. He knows his voice is more than a little hoarse at this point.

“Fuck Ethan.” Brandt groans back at him. Ethan’s glad to know that even though he’s the one getting the hand job, Brandt is still having trouble functioning. “Had to be something.”

“Something? Anything?”

“Something.”

“What do you mean by—”

Brandt pulls Ethan’s hair roughly to distract him. The sensations it sends down his spine leave him tingling and shivering. The fact that Brandt accompanies the hair with several hard and quick squeezes to Ethan’s cock has the team leader scrambling not to lose his train of thought. Brandt takes the opportunity to let go of Ethan’s head to work on the button and zipper of Ethan’s jeans with both hands.

Ethan’s still can’t see, but he can hear the way Brandt’s breath hitches when he gets Ethan’s jeans open. One hand dives into the fabric of Ethan’s briefs to get him all out in the open, but the other remains absent from Ethan’s body.

Ethan’s really not sure how he should feel about all of this. The training exercise has probably gone a bit awry of the original plan coupled with the feelings of attraction Ethan never looks to closely at. If Benji or Jane had been in Brandt’s position, Ethan doesn’t think he would have been as aroused. Brandt’s got the clean, competent, experienced edge that Ethan enjoys that others don’t quite have .Also, he is Brandt’s superior for most missions, and they’ve got a kind of screwed up history with extreme feelings of insecurity on Brandt’s side. 

Altogether, Ethan’s sure this isn’t a very good idea. He wishes he could see Brandt’s face. Something tells him that Brandt, ever the analyst, is calculating how many reasons this is a bad idea and how badly it could mess up the team.

Ethan opens his mouth to protest, to tell Brandt to stop, but he can’t wrap his brain around the words. He just moans instead at the sensations from Brandt’s warm hand. It alternates between short tugs and long pulls as it moves up and down Ethan’s cock. There’s a brief feeling of blunt fingernails at the base of his balls. All thoughts of protesting fly from Ethan’s head.

The tightness builds in his lower body rather quickly after the first scrape of nails is followed by another. Brandt really does know what he’s doing. Ethan has no idea why anyone thought that Brandt needed more training in getting people to spill secrets. While Ethan wasn’t about to spill state secrets, most of the leads and assets they came across weren’t as well trained to stand up to “persuasion” especially of this kind. Brandt should have no trouble getting it from them.

He comes panting with a groan as Brandt gives one last pull before dropping all contact and stepping away. Ethan’s thoughts begin to regroup themselves. His senses aren’t quite back yet so he’s lost if there’s anyone still there with him.

“Brandt?”

“I’m still here.” Brandt responds. Ethan attempts to twist to where the voice is coming from.

Brandt steps back up close to Ethan. He tucks Ethan back in neatly even though he hasn’t wiped him off. Ethan tugs on the restraints a little. They hurt his wrists so he stops. He looks towards where he imagines Brandt’s face to be.

“You know you could untie me so that I could finish you off.”

“That’s really not necessary.” Brandt answers back quickly. He sounds embarrassed. Ethan can picture a blush sliding over his cheeks.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know, it’s really not that embarrassing especially if you haven’t gotten any in a while. I mean I know between missions and office work there really hasn’t been much time—”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

“All things considered though, I think this training exercise went rather well though I’m sure that the powers that be will insist that we keep this up for practical reasons. You never did get that information out of me.”

Brandt lets out a little choking noise like he’s not sure how he should respond. Ethan smirks.


End file.
